What after That?

Ch 25.

Shubman sighed as he watched Ishan dramatically turn his face away for the third time that day. He rolled his eyes, frustration creeping into his voice. "Kya bachcha hai kya tu?" he muttered as he sat down next to Ishan.

Ishan, still with his back to Shubman, huffed in response. "Hum koii bachche nahi hain... aur hume tumse baat nahi karni," he shot back, his voice full of stubbornness.

Shubman leaned forward, smirking a little despite the tension. "To abhi kya kar raha hai?"Ishan turned his face even further away, refusing to make eye contact. "Bola na, humse baat mat karo."

"Main to karunga..." he teased, leaning in closer.

Ishan let out an annoyed "hmph" and turned his face even more dramatically, as if trying to escape from Shubman's persistent presence. He crossed his arms, clearly intending to hold onto his little tantrum, while Shubman watched him with amused eyes. 

It was a peaceful evening, and the usual chatter and laughter filled the atmosphere as Shubman and his gang played cricket at the school ground. 

Shubman was batting while Abhi, still distant from him, stood at the other end of the pitch, ready to run.

Despite the tension between them, their coordination on the field was perfect—almost mechanical in its precision. The two weren't speaking, but every gesture, every look, was enough to communicate what was needed.

Rahul, who was fielding nearby, watched the silent coordination between the two former best friends and shook his head in disbelief.

"Bhaii, alag hi log hain... chutiyee," he muttered to himself, marveling at how they managed to play so well together despite not talking.

While Shubman and Abhi navigated their unspoken communication on the cricket field,

on the other side of town, Ishan was on his way home from his tuition classes. His mind was buzzing with everything that had happened lately—Shubman's anger, Abhi's silence, and his own struggle to balance everything.

He was lost in thought when he noticed a familiar figure walking in the same direction.

"Yashaswi!" Ishan waved, calling out to him.

Yashaswi waved back with a wide smile, quickening his pace until he caught up with Ishan.

They began walking side by side. "Tum kahan se aa rahe ho? Coaching?" Ishan asked.

Yashaswi shook his head. "Nahi, wo meri cousin hai na, Vaishali di. Unhe chemistry bahut achhe se aati hai, toh unhone notes diye the."

Ishan nodded in understanding. "Oh achha, di kaafi intelligent hongi fir?"

Yashaswi chuckled. "Haan, hai toh, par danti thoda zyada hai."

Both of them shared a laugh, the easy conversation helping Ishan forget about the day's stress for a while.

But just as they were getting comfortable in their chat, Ishan felt a sudden jerk. His backpack was yanked backward, almost making him stumble.

Confused and startled, Ishan turned around, his heart skipping a beat.

Standing there was a group of five boys, one of them immediately recognizable—the senior from their school who had recently gotten into a fight with Shubman.

His arm was still in a cast, but the smirk on his face was as arrogant as ever. He stepped forward, his eyes narrowing as he glanced at Ishan.

"Yahi hai saala, wo Shubman ka dost," the senior sneered, clearly still bitter about the incident with Shubman.